


the cold awlays helps.

by Iittlesparkle



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iittlesparkle/pseuds/Iittlesparkle
Summary: January 2019, the tour is over, the dvd is out and they put the gaming channel on pause, yet, Phil feels overwhelmed.





	the cold awlays helps.

He wakes up from a bad dream. He doesn’t remember what happened in the dream but the feelings are still there. It’s not quite fear, not quite anxiety yet, he just feels uneasy: something is wrong. He turns is head to see if Dan is still asleep and by the look of his open mouth, he is. He hates that he feels like that while being alone, even if technically, he isn’t; as long as Dan’s sleeping, he feels alone. He feels like something could happen and he would be the only one here to deal with it. The uneasy feeling quickly turns into anxiety the more he stays alone with his brain, he feels his breath speed up and he knows he has to do something about it. Phil rolls over to crash his face in Dan’s chest, it won’t help, but he just wants to. Dan grunts as he wakes up.

“Hello?” His voice isn’t quite there yet, but Phil still finds comfort in knowing he’s not the only one who’s awake anymore.

“Can we cuddle?” His own voice sounds foreign and kind of far away, from the other side of the room.

“I think you’re already doing it mate.” Dan says jokingly.

“Yeah but like, hold me.” Phil doesn’t want to laugh that much. He appreciates that Dan’s trying though. They switch and breathing already feels a little easier when he can actually feel how not alone he is.

“Nightmare?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“We should do something nice today, to take your mind out of it.”

“I can’t, I have stuff. To do.” They’re already listing themselves in his head. Emails. Script. Texts. Video Ideas. 

“Can’t it wait tomorrow?” Phil doesn’t reply. He knows Dan will try to convince him, but he doesn’t want to be convinced. He needs to do this today.

-

He’s been sat at his desk for what feels like hours. Probably not though. The emails are all laid out in front of him and it feels like he could scroll endlessly without ever finding the end. He has replied to one or two but now he’s just looking at them, taking in how many there are, how urgent some of them are. He feels like each sentence is wrapping around his neck and chocking him. At some point he realises he can’t even see them clearly, they’re just a menacing blur.

He closes the tab. Maybe if he can’t do that, he can do something else. He opens a blank word page and tries to breath again. He can do this, he can think of a video. He always has. But it feels like he can’t. If the multitude of words were overwhelming earlier, now it’s the lack of them that makes the weight in his stomach grow. He’s going to fall, he’s going to fall into this blank page and drown into it. How is he supposed to write anything when his brain feels like it’s breaking apart?

It’s weird. He knows social anxiety, he knows being afraid of talking in front of a crowd or even just to a group of friends. But this is different, he’s alone here yet he feels like at any moment the world is going to collapse on his body because he can’t find the words and he can’t read those emails and the texts in his phone are still left unanswered.

He doesn’t realise he’s crying until Dan makes his way across the room and lightly caress his arm.

“Phil? Phil look at me.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on, I feel like I can’t breathe Dan, I’m going to die, I can’t breathe.” He sobs in between each word, trying desperately to catch his breath.

“Phil, Phil take my hand and try to get up ok. We’re just going outside, you’re ok.”

-

He doesn’t really recall the walk to the front door. He vaguely remembers the feeling of Dan putting his coat on for him and tying his shoes, and then he’s out there, cold air biting at his face, sitting on a bench close to their home. It feels good right now. After a few minutes of just sitting there, he starts breathing better.

“How did you know?” He asks as the cold air dry his tears.

“What?” Dan doesn’t look like he’s appreciating the cold air as much, his teeth clicking every now and then.

“That it’d help.”

“Experience, I guess. You know before tour I had this big breakdown, because everything was… Too much. I thought I couldn’t do it.” Dan adjust the collar of his coat so it covers his chin.

“Yeah.” Phil breaths. He does remember. Bad times.

“It helped. I don’t know why but the cold always helps. I guess it’s like putting ice on a sprained ankle.”

“It’s weird, I never… I never felt so overwhelmed before. Even with tour and the book and everything we did, it was a lot but… I was okay. And today I can’t even handle a few emails.” He says, frustrated.

“Maybe… Maybe it’s because you were never alone doing it. Like you knew you could handle more than me, so you kept going. And now your brain is like: mate, I need some rest, I’ve been carrying your giant ass boyfriend around for ten years.”

Phil frowns. “Shut up, you’re not a weight for me.”

Dan puts his head on his shoulder and snuggles in his neck a bit, looking for warmth. “I know.” He says softly. “But you’ve been handling a lot for a long time anyway. You can’t work every day until 3 am all your life.”

“I don’t have enough time to do everything, that’s the problem.” He mumbles. Dan’s hair is tickling his neck.

“No Phil, the problem is you do too much.”

“But I need to. I just feel like I lost all my creativity.” He whines.

“No you don’t need to. You could stop doing videos for a while. Or post less often. Really concentrate on the script, I’m sure the creativity would come back. I never post and it’s fine, see? You can’t do everything at the same time, you’re too old for that shit now. “

“Shut up.” He swats at his face. “But if I don’t post and you don’t post either, what about _them_.”

“I think they just want us to be happy Phil.” Phil knows he’s right.

“Mh.”

“You know I’m right.”

“That’s why I never talk to you. You make too much sense.” He can feel Dan chuckling more than he can hear him.

“You’re lucky it happened during winter.” Dan states suddenly.

“Oh my god you’re right. I would’ve died. I would’ve melted in my own sweat and then died.”

“See, you’re just as weirdly creative. “ Dan laughs.

“Is that a compliment?”

“I’m not sure either.”

**Author's Note:**

> heyo my dudes! it's been a while, i hope you're all okay! this fic is basically me putting my own feeling into my characters lmao i hope you enjoyed it !
> 
> you can share it on [tumblr]()


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